


We'll All Float On

by Syntheticpalindromes



Series: Good News [2]
Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Camping, Dutch is a Dad™, M/M, Morning Sex, charles is a chunky young man and i will die on this hill!, morning blowjobs can sometimes be used to say i love u, soft cowboys in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:09:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24115552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syntheticpalindromes/pseuds/Syntheticpalindromes
Summary: Never one to mince words, Charles announced primly, “I would like to ask you if it’s alright to take Arthur away for a small trip? A day or two, not any longer.”The book was laid to the side, jostling the record player which was spinning on as usual and Dutch pulled the needle off with a careful hand, “Hm. I suppose I have been working Arthur relatively hard.” Charles nodded once and Dutch couldn’t help but smirk a little, (good heartedly) and he patted his hands down upon his knees, “No reason why I shouldn’t let you spring to mind, so I’d say that’s a yes from me. Why not.”---When your collective family is in the double digits, it's unsurprising that the want to spend some time alone is in the forefront of your mind. Charles and Arthur are allowed a few days to themselves, and entirely make the most of it.
Relationships: Arthur Morgan/Charles Smith
Series: Good News [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1742431
Comments: 9
Kudos: 148





	We'll All Float On

**Author's Note:**

> sO, it's not entirely necessary to (altho i highly suggest it) but reading my first Charthur fic [World At Large](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23599636) (yes i'm gay and like modest mouse) will make this fic make slightly more sense and also it's just a fic I worked very hard on! 
> 
> this fic was meant to be an in between for that one and the sECOND big Charthur fic i'm currently also writing and am about half way ?? through with about 16k words so potentially might take me a little while to get out. which is basically why i banged this out in like 2 days. 
> 
> also un-beta'd as usual bc yall have betas?? in this economy? but i will sweep over it after posting!
> 
> anyway, enjoy!

The need to do something “nice” for Arthur came upon Charles very suddenly. He hadn’t even been doing anything that would bring Arthur to the forefront of his mind but, there he was, stopping himself abruptly in the middle of his chores to put down the bag of chicken feed. Hens pecking around his shoes curiously as he did an 180 degree turn, and set himself off marching towards Dutch’s tent with an intense look of concentration on his face. So deeply intense apparently that Sean did his own turn as he came towards Charles, saw the look set into his face, and then decided it obviously wasn’t worth it because he wouldn’t be getting anything useful out of Charles when he had something on his mind. 

Dutch was sat, a leg slung over the other and an Evelyn Miller tome clutched his ringed hands, and when he saw Charles marching over he glanced up from it and beamed at him, “Ah. Mr Smith. You look like a man on a mission.” 

Never one to mince words, Charles announced primly, “I would like to ask you if it’s alright to take Arthur away for a small trip? A day or two, not any longer.” 

The book was laid to the side, jostling the record player which was spinning on as usual and Dutch pulled the needle off with a careful hand, “Hm. I suppose I have been working Arthur relatively hard.” Charles nodded once and Dutch couldn’t help but smirk a little, (good heartedly) and he patted his hands down upon his knees, “No reason why I shouldn’t let you spring to mind, so I’d say that’s a yes from me. Why not.” He then gestured a hand toward the wooden chair to the side of him, “Sit down a second. You’re making me nervous hovering there, son.”

“Sorry.” Charles responded as he pulled the chair around to sit opposite Dutch and then took a seat, the chair groaning underneath him. Obviously not quite used to facilitating such a heavy set man and Dutch’s eyes flitted almost nervously to the base of the legs and Charles almost felt as though he should apologise again, but then the look was turned back towards his face and Dutch’s eyes were softer. 

“Do you think me a stupid man, Charles?”

He wasn’t exactly expecting that.

“No. Of course not.”

Dutch’s cot creaked ever so slightly as he leant forward, elbows positioned on his knees and chin propped on his now laced hands, “Arthur is...Well, he’s like a son to me. You are aware of this, yes?”

Charles felt a genuine dribble of sweat trickle from his hairline, “...Yes?”

“Is there any need in you to mess him around? I don’t think I need to explain to you how torn up he was about being left high and dry by Mrs Linton. I doubt he’ll ever quite be over that one.” He cleared his throat, “You catching my drift, son?” 

The horrific sensation of what Dutch was saying to him dawned on Charles at such a fast rate that it whiplashed up his spine and he swiftly sat even further up in the chair and staggered out, “No! Never! I-I care for Arthur very deeply.” His mouth felt tacky and his head as though he had stood up too quickly in the middle of a steaming hot day, “...Hosea knows I assume?”

Charles presumed that the look of terror that was plastered across his face was so acute that Dutch immediately noticed it, and he sounded slightly hurt when he replied, “Oh, so you’re frightened of Hosea but not me?” 

Charles’ eyes darted about, “....Well—”

Dutch hummed, but the sound wasn’t an unhappy one, “No, no. You don’t have to explain. I understand entirely. He’s an imposing man. And yes, Hosea knows. I assume the question was almost rhetorical but, he knows and has no qualms with it.” Standing from the cot and eyeing Charles with a smile that was laced with a smug knowledge, “Either way, the answer is still the same. Of course you may go...” He rubbed his hands together and then clapped, “I’ll go speak to Arthur myself.” 

Once again he cleared his throat and clapped a hand onto Charles’ shoulder where he was sitting, “Better go and pack up a tent, I think.”

As soon as Charles found himself out the tent he let out a breath he hadn’t even realised he’d been holding. Lungs almost collapsing in on themselves and when he brought his hands up to look at them, they were shaking slightly. He hadn’t ever expected himself to have to speak like that to the person he was courting's father but, he was glad it was over.

—

They rode out west, leaving the confines of Horseshoe Overlook and Charles could feel the way his shoulders relaxed more and more the further away from camp they got. He took a deep breath as they rode, Arthur flanking him as Charles led the way towards a spot he’d already scouted by himself a few days prior.

It had only been a short while since Sean’s return party and in turn, not too long since the tumble they had taken together rather daringly. Of course, it had been even longer before that that Charles had first settled his eyes on Arthur and the thought of, “I adore this man” had bubbled sharply out of him like a flowing tap. Even during the months when they had hardly even spoken to each other, Charles was good at blending into the background and listening, and he had listened to Arthur a lot during the months before Colter. Establishing early on that he had a great deal of respect for him. Which had rolled and gathered speed and here he was, on horseback next to the man with his heart in his throat at the way Arthur simply rode his mare. Arm slung to the side casually, the golden crop of his hair sticking out neatly from the back of his neck and Charles had to physically pull his eyes away from his behind when his eyes slid down to it. 

It had been as easy as falling asleep to fall into the unrelenting sensation of devotion to Arthur Morgan.

The spot itself that he had picked was along the shore of the Flat Iron Lake, shielded slightly from the main dirt road by a thick cluster of trees just behind it and when Arthur demounted Clementine he whistled low, “My, this is pretty charmin.” And then ever the man of the wilds, Arthur immediately hitched the tent from his mare and began to erect it. 

Charles then watched with a vaguely reverent gaze as Arthur set about bundling some kindling together for a fire, despite the fact it was barely past two in the afternoon, and it would be staying light for a good while longer. Arthur continued to be ever the helpful one though, and it seized Charles’ heart with such intensity and fondness that he had to cast his eyes away. 

“I’m going to go catch us dinner. Rabbit good?” 

Arthur’s answering smile was hungry and he asked, tone sweet and purring as if he were already slipping into the same feeling Charles had felt when riding, “Want me to come along with you?”

The younger man gave an amused little shake of his head and pulled his loose tumble of hair into a tight bun at the crown of his head, “No, I want you to sit here and...I don’t know, enjoy a cigarette and a rest.” 

Arthur had already planted his ass firmly on a blanket to the side of the tent and Charles had to press his foot to the man’s knee and kick him away as he noticed the way he was looking at him adoringly. So much so that he looked rather stupid. Arthur chuffed a laugh at that and his hand shot out to playfully grasp at Charles’ exposed ankle, “That’s no fun. I’d much rather be with you.” 

Ignoring the thundering of his heart in his chest Charles shook Arthur off of him, “I’m trying to be kind to you. Don’t think I haven’t heard you complaining about how tired you’ve been since…” Charles didn’t finish that thought, leaving it hanging awkwardly as Arthur seemed to have already inferred that he was going to bring up Blackwater if the way he raised his shoulders defensively was anything to go by. 

“Fine, fine. Off you go. Bring me back something nice.” 

It was second nature for Charles to bend at the waist and for Arthur to meet him in a brief kiss before Charles was climbing back onto Taima and setting off into a trot.

—

Despite the fact Arthur was often known to cook for himself, and his mint mutton was particularly tasty if he did say so himself, he allowed Charles full rein of the meal as he reclined to the side of him. Boots and hat cast to the side and after a few hours of being worried they might be seen and then realising that absolutely no one had ventured near them since they set up camp, he let himself relax enough to place a warm hand on Charles’ thigh.

Watching him as he prepared a small stew for the both of them, concentrated so hard on what he was doing that he didn’t even notice Arthur’s hand travelling the length of his arm till his fingers were wrapped around Charles’s wrist and he had pulled his right hand away from what he was doing. Charles’ clucked his tongue, 

“I thought you were hungry?”

Arthur continued to pull Charles’ hand towards him, the hand itself clasping a small knife which he’d been using to chop some wild carrots with, and the movement of that knife was quick enough that Arthur could barely register it. Charles’ palm wide enough that he could dip the knife's blade into the soft of Arthur’s cheek, his thumb holding it steady on the opposite cheek, “I’m cooking, Arthur.” 

The groan Arthur gave in response just made Charles laugh, “Not sure I will ever understand the way you are a glutton for punishment.”

It was all play, of course, Charles would never cut Arthur but he took in with an air of mirth the way Arthur’s pupils had grown inky and large, and the way his Adam’s apple bobbed tightly against the skin of his throat. 

He retracted the knife, going back to cutting vegetables and Arthur had gotten the message, “No more distractions.” 

Charles murmured in agreement, echoing Arthur, “No more distractions.”

Arthur did manage to keep his hands to himself long enough for Charles to finish cooking their dinner, enough so that when Charles nudged him with a bowl in hand, Arthur was dozing softly next to him. Sweetened snores of a contented nap filtering from him and Charles had a moment of debate within himself a moment before, wondering if he should wake him. Which quickly ended with him deciding Arthur would be more upset to sleep through dinner than to be awoken. 

The older man grunted, startling awake and Charles was all too entertained with the way a bleary eyed Arthur immediately shot his hands out to take the bowl and began eating, still half asleep. 

Charles brushed some stray hair back from Arthur’s forehead, “Good?” 

“Mmph.” Arthur affirmed, mouth full of rabbit. Cheeks flushing when Charles pressed a kiss to his temple. 

“Good.” 

After piling a hefty few mouthfuls into himself, Arthur wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and asked quizzically, “Is all this a thank you, ‘cause of all the silly flowers I bring you?” His tone was steady but Charles could tell that he was awfully embarrassed to ask, as if he was still shy about the fact he brought Charles flowers still to begin with. 

Charles wrinkled his nose, “They’re not silly. I have kept all of them actually. I press them.” Now, however, it was his turn to become bashful, “...So when you’re out of camp I can look at them and think about you.”

The surprise in Arthur’s little, “Oh!” was genuine it seemed, “I didn’t know they meant that much to you?” He tilted his head to the side and laughed nervously, “Honestly, some of them I just find out the blue and pick because I think the colours are pretty lookin’.”

“They’re gifts from you, of course they mean a lot.” Charles punctuated the sentence by leaning over once more and leaving a heaping, smacking kiss on Arthur’s bristly cheek which had the older man flushing bright red and he rubbed at the cheek shyly when Charles pulled away.

“You’re just doin’ this on purpose to make me look like a fool.” 

“Eat your stew, Arthur.”

It didn’t take long for the bowls to be finished with, especially with the rate the two of them ate. Not any wonder considering the fact that if you didn’t get in fast at camp with your dining then you probably weren’t going to be eating at all. Bill was known to go back for seconds before you’d even had your firsts. 

The dining ware had been left to the side, as had Arthur’s waistcoat and he lounged freely in a simple shirt and his cords, feet kicked out in front of him as the two of them passed a bag of candies back and forth between each other. The sounds of them sucking the hard barley sugars against their teeth loud and making them snigger quietly under their breath.

Charles was much the same, it wasn’t often that Arthur was lucky enough to see Charles look so comfortable, as he held himself to some degree of properness about camp and didn’t want to be spotted slouching around. But there he was, laid out in a soft olive coloured Henley, his head propped up on his hand and Arthur could tell that the younger man was sneaking glances at him. 

As soon as he peeped over at him, Charles would dart his eyes away and pretend that he wasn’t staring at Arthur the moment prior. 

“What is it?” Arthur frowned and rubbed a hand over his mouth, “I got food on my face?” 

Charles’ grin split across his face, “No, I just enjoy looking at you.”

It didn’t come as any kind of surprise to Charles when Arthur grumbled, “You know damn well I’m not the prettiest of pictures.” He turned his face to the sky and sighed dramatically, “Every day I find a new grey hair as well! Old—ugly—useless—” 

The line of Charles’ mouth was tight until he intercepted Arthur’s joking, “I don’t find that all too funny, Arthur. You know it upsets me.” 

Arthur rolled a little closer to Charles, “Sweetheart—”

“Don’t ruin our time here. Maybe I want to sit and tell you all the things I find handsome about you.” Charles didn’t comment on the fact Arthur was crimson in colour and the nervous energy of the way he was swirling the still contained barley sugar around his mouth was rather telling in the way that he still couldn’t take a compliment. “I mean, you think I’m a handsome feller too, right?” 

The way Arthur waved his hands in front of his face as if to banish all thought that was untrue was erratic and the look in his eyes was borderline panicked, “A’course I do!” He wheedled even closer until he could tentatively lay a hand on Charles’ knee, “Everything about you. How tall and unwavering you are when you stand with your shoulders back. How broad those shoulders are. When you sit when you’re half dressed in the morning and your stomach is rolled and I just want to put my hand on it. Or the way your thighs spread out when you’re sitting, as well.” The look in Arthur’s eyes was dreamy and far away, obviously embroiled in this daydream of Charles, “The little lines of silver that run up your skin on those thighs…” 

A snort snuck it’s way out of Charles, “Didn’t know we’ve had enough time undressed around each other for you to notice those sorts of things about me.”

“Uh.” Arthur stuttered out, “I guess I’ve been lookin’ a lot longer than before we started this thing.” He sounded all too sheepish as he confessed, “It ain’t hard to notice when someone’s gettin’ dressed just across camp from you most days.” He tossed a hand over his face, a stark, speckled with freckles and pale colour compared to the redness of his face, “Oh Lord, that sounds awful. I’m so sorry, I don’t mean to be some sort of lecherous creep with you.” 

“It’s alright. I looked too.” 

Arthur spread his fingers in the middle so he could peer at Charles, “Uhuh?” 

“Mhm.” Charles hummed in reply, then probed a little further, “How is it that you can talk so kindly about me but you can’t seem to do it for yourself?” Arthur didn’t even need to look at Charles' face to know that he was frowning, “At least say it out loud. Agree with me, say that you’re handsome.” 

Arthur groaned, “Charles—”

“No, c’mon. Please.” 

“ _Jesus_. Fine. Okay. _I am a handsome man_.” 

Charles grinned at him, again giving him a kiss on the mouth and almost tumbled towards Arthur, basically depositing himself into Arthur’s lap, arms folding around his middle. Arthur let out a quiet little “oof” but contentedly allowed it, smoothing a hand down Charles’ shoulderblades. 

“Alright, alright. Careful now.” He sniggered and rolled his eyes playfully, “I suppose that does feel quite good.”

“Ah. _I’m winning_.” Charles thought absentmindedly.

—

For a while longer they simply laid together, tangled in each other with Arthur between Charles’ legs, his back to Charles’ front and the younger man’s chin rested on the top of Charles’ head. Arthur licked a finger, leafing through his diary while Charles pointed at sketches he thought were quaint. He particularly enjoyed any kind of bird or plant. He was _especially_ delighted at the scattering of drawings that were quite blatantly of him, despite how much Arthur protested the fact. Saying it was just some other men he’d seen about town.

“You’re drawing other men than me?” Charles teased. 

Arthur scoffed, “Don’t play with me like that.” He twirled a piece of Charles’ hair around his finger, pulling on it a little and making Charles laugh, “I just don’t want it going to your head that all I do apparently is laze around like a lovesick idiot and draw you.” He couldn’t stop himself from chuckling along with him though, flicking through a few more pages. Noticing quickly that Charles seemed to be drifting in interest from the diary. More interested in tilting his head down so he could press a litany of kisses to the bare expanse of Arthur’s neck. 

Arthur let out an appreciative little sigh and snuck a hand down to grasp at Charles’ knee, pulling up the fabric of his pants as he murmured hopefully, “Didn’t know it was _that_ kind of trip away from camp.” 

“Sorry to let you down but, maybe I just want to kiss on you.” Charles remarked with a twang of amusement to his voice, feeling Arthur’s hand slacken on his knee and he could tell he was about to grumble at the fact that they probably weren’t going to be anything explicit quite yet. He caught him before he could though by securing his mouth back onto his neck, dragging his teeth along his skin. Slightly sweaty and when Charles bit at him a touch rougher than he intended, Arthur sighed and craned his neck until he could get his mouth on Charles’. 

The angle was a little off though, and Arthur had to physically move him himself around until he was knelt between Charles’ legs, his hands clasped on his thighs and it would probably never stop being novel how taken Arthur was with how _big_ Charles was. As soon as he laid a hand on a part of Charles’ body he deemed interesting it was like he couldn’t bear to drag himself away from touching it. His hands flexing on his thighs and Charles knew that Arthur desperately wanted to get his pants untied and down low enough that he could feel the downy hair smattered across the skin there. 

Arthur’s voice was raspy as he cooed, “You wanna take this to the tent?” He nosed his way into Charles’ space, his breath smelling syruppy and sweet from the barley sugars, “We don’t gotta do anything though. Just wanna be in private.”

Charles didn’t really need to be asked twice. 

The horses had been hitched properly and placated with a couple of sugarcubes each, Charles actually kissing the bridge of Taima’s snout and Arthur wrinkled his nose when he saw it, “You gonna kiss me with that mouth too?” 

“I have and I will, and I highly doubt you’ll stop me.” Charles stated. 

Arthur couldn’t really argue, “Well, I know damn well you have one a’them toothbrushes in your pack so you can use it.” Hefting himself into the tent and letting the flap shut with a _whap_ as Charles stood, one hand on Taima and one hand on his hip. Then slowly retrieved said toothbrush from his pack, shuffling back over to the centre of the camp till he could pick up a tin cup and swirl the brush in it. Unaware that he’d become so softened by Arthur that he would immediately do something when he asked. He shoved the toothbrush into his mouth and listened to the dull noises of Arthur moving about in the tent. 

When he was finished, slicking his tongue along his teeth happily, and had re-tied his hair back up, he carefully leant into the tent, inching himself into it until he could kneel on the bed rolls hastily shoved together by Arthur. 

It was a bit of an understatement to say that the tent was a squeeze, they were fully grown men and the tent was obviously only meant for one. Charles’ form almost seemed hulking as he crawled into a cross-legged position, shoulders hunched, “This is...Cozy.” 

Arthur had to bite his lip to stifle what could only be described as a giggle, “Mm. Very.” He began unbuttoning the front of his shirt, fingers trembling with uncontainable excitement which was brimming within him at the mere thought of being able to sleep like that with Charles. It was stark and obvious and Charles wrapped his hands around Arthur’s as he did it, licking his lips and requested quietly,

“Would it be alright if I undressed you?” 

Arthur’s reply was instant, “A’course. Yes.”

There was nothing sexual in the way Charles attentively undressed Arthur, his hands sweeping over his shirt’s front. Popping the buttons and when his chest was revealed he simply smoothed a hand over one of his pecs and then moved onto his belt. The touch was so delicate, so meticulous in the way Charles sprung the belt from the buckle and when it was revealed that Arthur’s cords held no sort of underwear beneath him he looked noticeably flustered. His thumb brushing some of the curled hair that was exposed and Arthur breathed out in front of him, Charles’ eyes flickering to his face. 

“Want me to lift up?” Arthur spoke so softly that Charles almost had to strain to hear. 

He nodded in response and then tugged down the corduroy pants when Arthur shifted up his hips from where he was laid out. The material being dragging down further and further until Charles could pull them off of Arthu’s ankles and they were deposited to the side, leaving him in socks and an open shirt. It might have been awkward, and it definitely should have been somewhat funny. A grown man half nude in a tiny cramped tent, but neither of them laughed. The only sound was the lull of their harmonised breathing.

Charles pushed the shirt off of Arthur’s shoulders gingerly, cupping a hand around his shoulder and when it was finally off (as were the socks) he pressed a single kiss to the soft, pale skin just above his left pec. Arthur’s hand moved of its own accord to cup the back of Charles’ head, and when Charles looked up at Arthur, his eyes were half lidded and full of such treacly warmth that it made his head swim. 

His own undressing was a slightly more hurried affair, both of them helping him peel off his clothes and underclothes, until they were both laid on their bed rolls facing one another. Of course it was a risky thing to do. Thieves weren’t opposed to stumbling into your tent at night to rob you but, they couldn’t bring themselves to care.

Arthur’s hand had already migrated to Charles’ waist, following the curve of it around to his hip and the bundle of softness that adorned it. It was almost inexpressible the way he adored Charles’ body. The way it was hard and then soft and then hard all over again. An ever changing terrain that mapped it’s way across him. His thumb dipped into his navel for a single moment as his fingers trickled their way down to his thighs again. Streaks of slightly silvered lightning caressing the skin which he wished so badly there was enough room in the tent to maneuver himself so he could kiss them. 

“We need to invest in a bigger tent.” He snorted. 

Charles just hummed in response. 

Neither of them mentioned the fact that Charles was half hard against his thigh and Arthur’s hand missed it entirely when he went up to cradle the softness of Charles’ belly, the younger man’s eyes closed and a shuddery noise slipped past his lips. To which Arthur smiled a little self-satisfied at, voice low and unrushed as he implicated himself into Charles’ space and kissed his hot cheek once and then crooned, “Darlin’.” Nothing more than that though, and that alone was enough to make Charles crumble and he whimpered quietly. A hand shooting down to slide over his quickly forming erection, but Arthur tutted at the sight, tugging the hand away and chastised him teasingly, “Ah, ah. Hold yer’ horses there.” 

His hand slid from Charles’ belly around to the small of his back, pulling them together, although making sure to angle their hips away, “Let’s just lie here a little while.” He didn’t help the matter however as he cheekily seized a handful of Charles’ behind, squeezing just short of hard and then revelling in the way Charles snapped his teeth together to keep whatever embarrassing noise was attempting to careen it’s way out of his mouth at bay. 

Arthur’s voice was borderline worshipful as he breathed into Charles’ space, “How comes you look so gorgeous and...And powerful when you’re well fed. But I just look like an old man with a paunch.” He stuck his bottom lip out in the beginnings of a pout and Charles soothed it over with a slightly damp kiss. 

“Not true. Not true at all.” He mumbled the words, arching his spine contentedly as Arthur continued to stroke his hand down the younger man’s spine, bumping down the knobs of his spine. He sounded dazed. Languid and peaceful and Arthur was on the verge of cooing at Charles like he were something to be cooed at. Which perhaps, he was. His face was softened with his tiredness, and he gave a drowsy little yawn which Arthur echoed after a moment to which both of them sniggered at. 

For a little while they stilled, simply lying there together while Arthur absentmindedly soothed his hand over the back of his head and through his hair. Fingers hardly ever tangling in it, so well kept and well brushed Charles kept it. 

Arthur broke the comfortable silence after a moment, murmuring confidentially, “I never thought I’d be allowed this.” 

Charles still sounded half asleep as he rumbled back, “Mmm? What?”

The older man couldn’t keep the sadness from his voice as he spoke, “Guess I had just accepted that loneliness was something that came with wanting men...But...But not just _wanting_ them...Wanting to be with them.” 

Charles didn’t open his eyes as Arthur said this, but a hand sought out his waist until he was able to grab a hold, pulling him even closer than they already were, “Don’t think like that anymore. You’re not ashamed of it are you?”

“No. No, I accepted myself a long time ago.” 

“You don't have to think about being alone anymore then. You can love me, as much as you want.” Charles assured, eyes open now and almost boring into Arthur. Although his voice wavered in the middle, as if he was unsure as to whether he was _allowed_ to speak about love with Arthur. It was such a delicate topic, and perhaps he needed to speak so carefully about it that if he were to put too much pressure upon the both of them that it would frighten Arthur. 

Arthur’s response of kissing Charles in the middle of his forehead, lips warm and body even warmer against his, seemed to insinuate that it was fine and Charles let out a sigh of relief. Curling into Arthur as much as he could, “As long as you will have me...However long that is, I want you.” His thumb traced the high point of Arthur’s cheek, “I have nowhere else to go. There’s nowhere I _want_ to be, other than with you.” 

It came as no shock to Charles’ that Arthur’s voice was tight and slightly wet sounding as he simply replied with, “Thank you.”

—

Charles sat and scrubbed the bottom of the pan they had used to cook themselves some breakfast, watching as Arthur stretched his back where he was stood just a few paces in front of him, suspenders hanging free about his sides and a huge, unwavering smile stuck to his face at the fact that Charles was doing that scrubbing with his shirts off. The blooming of a bright, colourful bruise on his neck from earlier that morning. As it transpired, waking up nude next to the man you potentially were in love with meant that it was relatively easy for Arthur to push his face into his neck and suck marks onto him until Charles was once again hard.

It had been even easier for Arthur to shuffle a flushed and groaning Charles into a position where he could slide his mouth down on his leaking erection that had been smearing wetness across his stomach. Something that Arthur didn’t neglect to notice, his tongue sweeping across the damp skin until Charles’ thighs were tight around his ears and his hands were pushing him back down onto his cock. 

When he had come, he had tugged insistently on Arthur’s hair. Watching the way his eyes rolled behind the lids at the sensation, something that Charles tucked away into the back of his mind. He had tugged once more in warning, groaning low in the back of his throat, before coming down Arthur’s throat. His head had smacked down onto the bedrolls as he twitched, shooting the last few times into Arthur’s mouth. The man had simply pulled away, giving a single cough and then wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. Eyes glassy and his own erection bobbing almost comically between his thighs. 

Charles had to cover his face and laugh weakly when Arthur had _smacked his lips_ and remarked, “Whew! Interestin’ way to start the day, huh?” 

As he sat and washed off the pan he had to forcibly stop himself from staring into space and thinking about the way Arthur’s eyes had squeezed shut and his stomach had jumped as he’d came against his own belly as Charles’ hand stroked him through it. 

He almost dropped the small sponge in his hand at the thought of it. 

He placed the pot down to the side, swiping a wet hand across his forehead to peel the strands of hair away from it and glanced at Arthur once more. He looked so much brighter, hand moving swiftly over the page of his diary as he sketched the view of the lake, rocking on the balls of his feet with the usual restlessness he had. Perhaps it finally had settled into his mind that this life wasn't unobtainable. 

Charles hoped so. Deeply. 

He raised his cup of coffee to Arthur as he made his way back over to where he was sat, Arthur taking it with a nod of his head and took a sip before handing it back to Charles. The young man taking his own sip from the exact place Arthur had. Not entirely sure why. But it made him feel warm inside either way. 

Arthur’s diary slapped down next to him, and he watched as Arthur toed off his boots and socks. Rolling up the hems of his pants and then Arthur was offering Charles his hand, “Come on.” There was no real explanation of what they were supposed to be doing but Charles took the hand anyway, spilling a dribble of coffee as he went and he tutted at the waste but it was soon forgotten as Arthur dragged him down to the edge of the water. Charles’ ass bumping down rather hard as Arthur pushed him down to sit, which he mirrored. Snatching the cup back out of Charles’ hand to take another drink of coffee and if Arthur was going to be this bold with the bolstering of Charles professed love then it was hard to not find it mildly amusing. 

Arthur spoke suddenly, pondering as he stuck his legs out in front of him and leaned back on a hand, “Wouldn’t it be funny if we did this every day.” 

Charles’ forehead wrinkled as he frowned, “That...Wouldn’t be funny, that’s something I wish for every day.”

Arthur sounded a little taken aback, “Oh. Sorry. Meant no harm.” 

Charles snuffled a laugh in return, touching his head to Arthur’s shoulder in apology, “No, it’s fine.” 

The grin Arthur supplied in return took shape so slowly, Charles was sure that he was forming a thought that was going to be cheeky in some way, “...Very sorry for ruining your eloping fantasy.” 

The quickness of Charles’ hand almost made it invisible as he slung it around to flick a cupped handful of lake water directly into Arthur’s face and Arthur almost _shrieked_ when it splashed at him. He threw his hands up to cover his face and hollered a laugh out, “Oh! So now you’re gonna be a tough guy, huh?” He then sprung into action, rolling them over until he was leering over Charles. The lake lapping almost to their shins in the position they were in. 

Once again it was a dangerous thing to do, anyone could come by and see the two of them entangled together. Yet, it didn’t cross either of their minds. All that mattered was the other. Charles’ hair fanned out beneath him like a halo of ink and Arthur’s eyes so gooey and cheeks so flushed. 

Charles’ lips parted in a soft whine and he cocked his head curiously, studying the way Arthur was staring at him so intently, “What is it?” 

The word startled Arthur out of his reverie, “Nothing. Sorry...You’re just... _A lot_.” 

Charles’ returning look could only be considered sultry, “Maybe we should go back to the tent.”

Arthur’s voice was bursting with tenderness as he implored, “No, let’s just...stay here a little while.” 

“Yes. Alright.” Charles murmured. 

The lake kissed the line of their hips just as Arthur leaned to press his mouth to Charles’, perfectly in tandem, all of them.

**Author's Note:**

> as always, if you enjoyed this please please consider leaving me a comment and kudos, i literally go hog wild for them!
> 
> you can find me on twitter @transmatty and tumblr @cowboyism !!


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